


It All Revolves Around You

by klainjel



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 18:01:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7232980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klainjel/pseuds/klainjel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It’s never really felt like I’ve been getting to know you, it’s always felt like I was remembering you from something. As if in every lifetime that you and I have ever lived, we’ve chosen to come back and find each other and fall in love all over again."</p><p>Blaine's dreams feel less like dreams, and more like memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It All Revolves Around You

**Author's Note:**

> Just a sappy lil fic because I miss my boys <3
> 
> Title inspired by the song Come What May

The soul is infinite. It is captured from a corpse and waits, only to be gently placed in a newborn body. Lives may change, but souls remain the same.

Blaine knows his life changes when he meets the boy on the stairs. He hears a voice and, even though he’s running late, he can’t help but turn around to face the melodious “Excuse me?” When their eyes meet, the world doesn’t stop, and his heart doesn’t fly from his chest like it would in a romance movie. There is nothing to signal that everything has changed, except for the fact that Blaine can’t help but think he’s met this boy before. It’s the eyes, the eyes that are clear and piercing and shielded with a frosted glass wall with just enough opacity that Blaine knows there’s pain behind it, even if he can’t quite see. He almost asks if they’ve met, but something stops him. Instead, he simply gives his name.

Before he knows it, they’re running through the hall, hand in hand. Blaine’s chest is filled with a lightness, warm and comforting, that makes every worry evaporate into the atmosphere. He glances back, flashing the boy a smile that seems to mean so much more. He waits, and Blaine is granted with a much softer, a much more guarded smile. Blaine’s chest warms with a feeling that is brand new yet familiar. It’s a feeling he could get used to.

Blaine vows to get a genuine smile out of this boy, and when he does, he decides that it’s not enough; he gives the boy, Kurt, his number. He has to see that smile again.

That night, Blaine dreams. He dreams of himself, dressed in the finest clothes money can buy. A suit of dark caramel brown. It’s darker than his eyes, and makes them shine bright. The buttons on his jacket are a crisp gold, although he knows they aren’t genuine, but simply made to appear to be. His hair is loose in a way Blaine never lets himself wear it, but it’s flattering and seems to suit him more than he ever thought it could. His shoes pinch his feet, but they’re of a vintage style that, thankfully, is coming back in style. The man in the dream is not Blaine, but it is Blaine. It’s Blaine if he were born in Queen Victoria’s reign.

There is a lady across from Blaine, seated at the table. Her dark brown hair is piled onto her head and curled at the temples. He dress is of a dark blue-violet, and extremely flattering, with a high collar and more fabric than should ever be necessary. Blaine feels a thump in his heart, not of love, but of admiration. His eyes are pulled away from her by a voice, and that is when Blaine sees him.

Husband, is the word that immediately pops into Blaine’s head. He must be her husband. His skin is pale, nearly as pale as his wife’s. While her eyes were a dazzling green, his are a piercing blue. Clear, confidant, and terrifying, as Blaine feels as though they see right through him, right into his head, and straight into his heart. Blaine blushes and looks away, but the gaze does not leave him, and it does not leave Blaine’s mind.

They eat, Blaine thinks, but he doesn’t seem to move. He keeps his eyes down, and when he does look up, he tries to keep his eyes on her. She likes the attention, Blaine understands, she considers it flattering. But Blaine has a fishhook in his brain, and his eyes keep drifting, drifting, hoping to meet the piercing gaze.

Dinner ends. The man’s chair scrapes across the wooden floor. He says something, _Shall we head to the library?_ Oh yes, that’s right. The library. It seems extremely important that Blaine follows the man and a thrill of excitement rushes through him. The library means something significant; it’s a codeword. That’s right. They’ve done this before.

Blaine excuses himself and stands. The wife is smiling pleasantly as Blaine kisses her cheek. She doesn’t suspect a thing. Blaine doesn’t know why she would.

Blaine follows Kurt because, yes, his name is Kurt. As soon as they’re out of sight, Kurt takes Blaine’s hand and as soon as the library door clicks shut behind them, there is a pressure on his lips and warmth, comforting warmth, warmth that could only be home…. It explodes in Blaine’s chest, and spreads straight through to his brain, and then—

He wakes. The dream disappears but not all the ties are cut; loose strings attach then to now and in the morning, Blaine remembers nothing but a happiness so deep he thinks he could cry.

The dreams continue. It seems almost every night they happen. Sometimes Blaine remembers, and other times nothing is left in the morning but a comforting confusion, or a hard erection. Once, Blaine is a stable boy, and the man is a noble, and Blaine shouldn’t be talking to him, shouldn’t be touching him, but there is something inside of him that can’t help it and it takes only one occasion, when the man returns his touch with a stroke to his cheek, for Blaine to know that he was right all along…

Another time there is a girl who catches them, rolling around together outside in a field surrounded by purple flowers. She doesn’t scream, rather, she begins to cry, and Blaine promises, promises, _I never meant to hurt you but… it’s him. I can’t control myself around him…_

Sometimes they’re young, like in the dream where they’re about five, running and playing because they don’t understand that his mother is dying of the plague. Sometimes they’re the age Blaine is now, full of blushing cheeks and raging hormones. Other times, they’re older, like when they meet in college, at a Beatles concert of all places, or even older, like when a thirty year old Blaine gives the poems he’d been writing to a thirty year old Kurt and anxiously waits for a reply full of disgust, or love.

One time, Blaine wakes up crying, and all he can remember is a doctor’s office and two diagnosis of _positive._

The dreams never seem to end, and if he could remember them all, Blaine was sure he’d be overwhelmed. He likes them, though, likes the feelings of love, a love so ancient and overpowering that Blaine’s sure must be the same love Noah and Allie felt.

And during this time, Blaine grows closer and closer to Kurt. Kurt who can make him laugh with a look, and smile without even meaning to. Kurt who seems to understand everything Blaine can’t quite say. Kurt who smiles more and more every day, and more and more in a way that only Blaine can see: it reaches his eyes, makes them sparkle and crinkle, makes his nose scrunch up right before he begins to laugh at some silly thing Blaine did, just to see that sweet, precious look on his face.

Kurt who has always, always been right there.

Kurt who sings with the voice of a hundred angels in a way that shoots straight through Blaine’s heart like cupid’s arrow and suddenly everything is so clear and so perfect and how could Blaine not have seen it before how has this boy been here all along and why does this feeling feel more familiar yet unfamiliar than anything Blaine had ever experienced before except…. Except…

It somehow feels like maybe, maybe he has.

There is a moment, when you say to yourself, oh, there you are…

And suddenly, there is a pressure against his lips, a comforting, hot, and sweet pressure he had only dreamed of before. The kiss is messy, and uncertain, and scared but it’s also… perfect. Perfectly imperfect. Blaine wouldn’t change it for one hundred thousand silver screen kisses.

The dreams stop. In fact, they disappear straight from his mind. Who needs dreams when your dream romance is right in front of your eyes?

Love, so much love, and heartbreak, heartbreak more painful than anything Blaine could ever imagine. And yet, Blaine knows they aren’t over. The ties may have been torn, but a single thread keeps the ropes of their hearts connected. Blaine knows they aren’t over, because he’s felt this connection before.

_It felt like I was remembering you._

He’s said those words before, in this life and in others, but when Blaine whispers it to Kurt on their wedding night, underneath the soft barn lights as their friends dance around them, it had never felt more right. Kurt smiles, the widest and brightest Blaine has ever seen, and he can’t stop from kissing him right then and there.

One thousand lifetimes, and Blaine wouldn’t exchange any of them for this one.

An ancient warmth fills Blaine’s chest, and Blaine feels it fill Kurt too. There’s only one word for this, one that exists in every language yet only seems truly important to the language of two souls, meeting again and again, in life after life.

Home.


End file.
